


Much Ado About Tuesdays

by saintfrania



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And let’s not forget yall’s favorite, As always I attempted at Humor, Don’t worry though it gets resolved!, Equally Good Friend Hanamaki Takahiro, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Good Friend Matsukawa Issei, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, soulmate talk, unresolved romantic and sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27699653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saintfrania/pseuds/saintfrania
Summary: “Anyway,” Matsukawa picks up the grey cardboard. It says ‘Theory two: connection’, and there are doodles of Oikawa and Iwaizumi with big fat tummies and question marks all over them. “This is my second least favorite and I only added it because Makki insisted. He says you two spend so much time together that it wouldn’t be weird if one of you, like, passed the pain onto the other or something like that. Like when two girl friends get their period at the same time.”“What the fuck.”“I know, ridiculous,” Matsukawa rolls his eyes and hastily puts the cardboard away like it had personally offended him. He then holds up the red one, a devilish smirk illuminating his face. ‘Theory three: sexual tension.’ It has at least ten bananas drawn on it. “My absolute favorite is number four but this one is still great, I don’t think it needs to be explained.”“That–” Oikawa clears his throat. “That actually makes sense.”
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 10
Kudos: 160





	Much Ado About Tuesdays

**Author's Note:**

> HI LOVELIES i’m finally done with this fic!! not that i didn’t enjoy writing it but i’ve been waiting to start a new one for a while now and the time has come. anyway. a few days ago i posted the first part of this thingy but then i deleted it cause i decided to just post the whole thing. and here it is. 
> 
> this is by no needs necessary, but if you‘re interested, i have a text fic called “the great king is typing” that takes place in the same universe as this fic, only a few years later. you can read it before or after this (chapters 3 and 8 are directly related to this). 
> 
> that’s all! everything else is pretty much explained in the tags. i really hope you guys like this nonsense haha, i love you all and thanks for reading ❤️

Oikawa’s stomach has been hurting lately in the presence of Iwaizumi. Or– no, scratch that. Oikawa’s stomach has been hurting lately, and Iwaizumi’s presence only makes it worse. It’s an unusual kind of ache, something he has never felt before. It starts in the very pit of his stomach and it spreads wave after wave of fire through him, making his insides twitch and burn. 

And it’s not the funny sensation that’s unusual, he’s used to feeling silly things whenever Iwaizumi is close to him practically since the day they met. He couldn’t understand it then, neither could he when he was five or even ten, but as he reached his teenage years he learned a few things about himself.

First, he was good looking. It didn’t occur to him while he was staring at his reflection in the mirror, but he supposed he must be, what with being followed around by girls all the time. Sure, he was in the school volleyball team and got somewhat popular because of it, but nobody in the team got surrounded by girls when they were trying to get to their classes like he did. Not even Iwaizumi, and Oikawa sure would be all over him if he was a girl, writing him love letters and baking him vanilla and chocolate cookies. 

Second, he couldn’t care less about being ‘lucky with girls’, because he couldn’t care less about girls– period. He used to lay in bed at night and force himself to fantasize about being in a relationship with a girl and all the things he could do with her. He imagined walking hand in hand with her across a nice park, maybe buying her an ice cream and kissing her frozen lips afterwards. Slowly but surely, though, his mind would start to ramble and the soft hand of the girl would get bigger and stronger in his, her delicate fingers would become rougher and they would hold his own just right. Oikawa would suddenly feel tiny next to his new companion, he would feel drunk in their masculine, fresh scent. He would not have to buy them an ice cream because they would get it for him instead, in a chivalrous gesture that would make Oikawa’s head spin. And when they finally kiss, the lips against his are not sweet and tentative. They’re hot and aggressive, demanding, and they kiss Oikawa until he’s gasping for air, like they want to devour him whole. 

He tried, every time, to not put a face to his not-at-all mysterious man. But as the kiss comes to a stop and Oikawa pulls away to look into his eyes, Iwaizumi’s green ones are blinking at him. 

It happened enough times for Oikawa to come to the next conclusion and the third and most problematic fact about himself: he is completely, crazily, desperately in love with his best friend.

So it’s not the unusual ache that worries Oikawa, but the way it doesn’t go away when Iwaizumi is not around anymore. It’s only logical that he first supposed he was sick, almost had his mother book him an appointment with a doctor and everything. But then she asked when the pain started, and he said ‘I don’t know, mom, I don’t remember’ because, honestly, how could he? And she started going off about how important it was that he at least tried to remember, because it was ‘vital information’ for the doctor, blah blah blah, and Oikawa’s had his mind so full he couldn’t even think: full of his stomach ache, full of how many practices the doctor would make him skip, full of his mother torturing him with something he already knew and full of Tuesday’s memories that he couldn’t get out of his goddamn head… 

Realization didn’t hit him like a brick, it was actually his mother who did the honors and flicked his forehead with her long, sharp nails. It stung, but did the trick all the same. 

“Are you listening to me?” 

“You know what, mom, forget about the doctor. I just remembered I ate way too many Meiji biscuits yesterday!” 

“What? Oikawa, wait!” But he was already climbing up the stairs. “You said it was not that kind of pain!” 

“It has to be, mom!” He yelled as he reached his bedroom. “The Meiji biscuits!”

Tuesday. His stomach started hurting the past Tuesday when Iwaizumi was over for dinner. It had gotten late by the time they finished eating so Oikawa’s mom suggested that Iwaizumi should stay the night, and Oikawa had immediately started panicking. They spent an unhealthy amount of time together but sleepovers didn’t happen as frequently as they used to anymore, Oikawa avoided them for obvious reasons and Iwaizumi never pushed. And when they did happen, Oikawa suffered, because for some unknown and unspoken reason, they never stopped sharing the bed. 

It was weird, right? Oikawa wouldn’t know. He was too afraid to ask Iwaizumi and even more afraid to talk about it with someone else. One might think it was the ideal scenario: getting the boy you like in bed with you, but it was quite the opposite. Laying next to Iwaizumi and not being allowed to touch him was worse than any medieval torture device ever designed.

Iwaizumi accepted his mother’s invitation, easily, like he hadn’t been planning on leaving anyway. The two of them made their way back to Oikawa’s bedroom in silence, and as they stepped inside, the first weird thing happened. 

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” Iwaizumi asked, looking everywhere but in Oikawa’s direction.

Oikawa’s heartbeat picked up its pace. He didn’t know the answer to that question, torn between what he wanted and what he needed. Supposing that making Iwaizumi sleep on the floor for the very first time in fourteen years of knowing him would be weirder than just sucking it up and sleeping with him, he said: “My bed is big enough to fit the both of us. Why would you sleep on the floor?” 

“I don’t know,” Iwaizumi said, meeting Oikawa’s gaze. “Maybe it’s weird?” 

The silence had become deafening by the time Oikawa forced himself to answer. “Do you think it’s weird?” 

“I mean. Kind of.”

“Okay,” Oikawa breathed out. “We should– we don’t have to share, then.” 

“Okay,” Iwaizumi nodded, and it was all so awkward that Oikawa felt on the verge of screaming. “Do you– uh. Do you have extra blankets?”

Oikawa jumped on the opportunity to end the conversation, happy to have something to do instead of standing _there_ and saying _that_ , and improvised a bed with the air cushion he kept in his closet. He insisted that he had to be the one who slept on the floor, Iwaizumi was his guest after all, but Iwaizumi refused and said that the floor wouldn’t be good for Oikawa’s injured knee. After that, Oikawa was too busy trying not to die to press the subject any further. 

If sleeping in the same bed as Iwaizumi was weird, not sleeping in the same bed as him was even weirder. Oikawa had lost track of time, but he guessed it was close to midnight and he still couldn’t fall asleep. It was frustrating, he had two exams _and_ practice on the next day and his brain wouldn’t shut up about his dumb feelings. 

He rolled on his side, fully intending on sneaking a peek at Iwaizumi’s sleeping face, but he was surprised to find the boy in question already looking at him.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi said, his groggy voice echoing Oikawa’s surprise.

“Hey,” Oikawa mumbled back. “Can’t sleep?” 

“Yeah. You?” 

“Same. Sucks, huh?”

Iwaizumi grunted his agreement. Painful. That was how their two last interactions went. Painfully. 

Just when Oikawa thought that was the end of the conversation, the second weird thing happened as Iwaizumi spoke up again. “Can I– Can I sleep in your bed?” 

“Uh, sure,” Oikawa said, already sitting up. “I want you to know that you’re a royal pain in the ass, though. Why didn’t you just let me take the floor in the first place?”

“No. I meant…” Iwaizumi made a pause, and as Oikawa understood what was going on, he started to hyperventilate. “I meant with you. Can I sleep with you?”

“Okay,” Oikawa managed in a dumb, squeaky voice. He couldn’t say no to Iwaizumi. He didn’t want to say no to him, either.

Without another word, Iwaizumi got up from the air cushion and laid down next to him, facing the wall. Oikawa stilled, heart beating like crazy against his ribcage: it was everything he wanted and everything he feared, all at once. 

He pressed his eyelids together, tried to think about literally anything that wasn’t Iwaizumi’s body laying inches away from him. But his eyes being closed did nothing to appease the fact that he was breathing in Iwaizumi’s addictive cologne and listening to his peaceful intake and output of air, so he was fucked. Thoroughly and rightfully fucked.

It was the third weird thing that made Oikawa’s stomach start to hurt, he remembered it clearly. Despite how comfortable they were with physical contact, they never touched when they slept in the same bed, probably because they knew sharing it was weird enough. So Oikawa couldn’t blame his body for violently jumping as he felt Iwaizumi taking one of his hands in his. 

He wasn’t brave enough to open his eyes and find out if Iwaizumi was looking at him, too afraid of what he might do if that was the case.

“Is this okay?” Iwaizumi whispered. 

“Yes,” Oikawa whispered back, squeezing Iwaizumi’s hand for good measure. Hand-holding was okay, really. It was Oikawa who wasn’t okay. “Good night, Iwa-chan.” 

Iwaizumi chuckled, Oikawa was confused as to _why_ , but he still refused to open his eyes to see whatever the hell was so funny. “Good night, Cowardkawa.” 

Oikawa didn’t understand what Iwaizumi meant by that nickname, not then and not a whole week later of constantly hearing it. Iwaizumi kept it, just like he kept Trashykawa or Shittykawa, and he didn’t explain Oikawa why. But as much as it didn’t make any sense, Oikawa had way more important things to worry about, like his stomach ache and the way he and Iwaizumi had gotten impossibly touchy since Tuesday’s incident. 

He had to lie to his mom and tell her, the next day after his realization, that his stomach didn’t hurt anymore, or she would have taken him to the doctor. So a week later he’s still worried, because he knows the reason why he’s hurting, yes, but that doesn’t explain why it hasn’t stopped. Or why he still feels it when he’s not around Iwaizumi. 

He’s desperate for a logical explanation, so he seeks help from a true professional.

“So you’d describe the feeling as, correct me if I’m wrong, _anticipation,_ ” Oikawa nods eagerly, watching the professional scribble something in a lilac notebook. “Is this pain constant?” 

“Er- kind of?” 

“If you want my help, you’ll have to be very graphic and specific.” 

“I mean it’s always there, yeah, but it doesn’t hurt bad all the time. Only-”

“Only when you think about, or are with, Iwaizumi Hajime. Which is basically all the time.”

“You don’t have to call him by his full name. He’s your friend.” 

“I’m nobody’s friend. I’m here to help those in pain or in love. Or- in your case, both.”

“Shut up and tell me what you think already! We’ve been sitting here for an eternity, I’m afraid Makki or Iwa-chan might find us!” 

“I texted Makki to let him know I had to talk with you about something important so he’s having lunch with the team,” Matsukawa says, not bothering to look up from the notebook. “And don’t worry about Iwaizumi. He went home early because he had a stomach ache.” 

Oikawa freezes. 

He definitely hasn’t heard right, has he? 

“What?” 

Matsukawa’s eyes widen before he focuses them on Oikawa’s wild ones. “Shit. Don’t tell me I forgot to tell you.”

“You forgot to tell me _what_?” 

“Okay. Don’t freak out,” Matsukawa warns, uselessly. “But Iwaizumi’s stomach has been hurting since last Tuesday too.”

Oikawa can feel himself turning red from rage. “Bullshit! You’re an asshole, Mattsun!” 

“No! I promi– auch!” Matsukawa swears as he rubs the spot of his arm where Oikawa has just punched him. “Hey! I’m telling the truth!” 

“I don’t believe you!” 

“I can prove it, look,” Matsukawa puts the notebook away to grab his phone, taps on the device a few times and then waves it in front of Oikawa’s face. “That’s my conversation with Iwaizumi on Wednesday. Read.” 

Oikawa takes the phone in his own shaky hands. Just like Matsukawa said, the screen displays his and Iwaizumi’s chat.

**to Bro #2**

BROOOO

makki and i are getting cheese-filled hamburg steaks after practice 😋 

wanna join us? 

**from Bro #2**

thank you but no 

i have a stomach ache 

**to Bro #2**

ughhh sucks 

WAIT hold on 

oikawa does too! wtf that’s why we didn’t invite him 

**from Bro #2**

i know, we probs caught the same virus 

please don’t tell him though because he’s gonna think it was his mom’s cooking and he’s gonna be sad about it for a week 

**to Bro #2**

ok ok i won’t tell him don’t worry abt it ❤️ 

“Oh my God.” 

“I told you,” Matsukawa snatches his phone back from Oikawa’s hands. “Why would I lie about something like that, huh?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry about that.” Oikawa says dismissively. “So what the fuck does this mean?” 

“Well, I have four theories–”

“ _Four_?” 

Matsukawa ignores him and produces four colored cardboards from somewhere between the multiple pages of his notebook. Oikawa frowns as Matsukawa reveals the orange one to him, ‘Theory one: virus’ is written on it in big black letters and there’s a literal sketch of a virus painted in green next to the title. 

“This is the rational one. You two are food-poisoned, not a big deal, you don’t have to cry about your mom not being a good cook. You whiny baby.” 

“I–” Oikawa is at a loss for words. 

“Though it’s my least favorite one,” Matsukawa continues. “Cause I don’t believe you two are food-poisoned, and neither does Makki. But I had to add it as an option.” 

“Makki is involved in this?” 

“Anyway,” Matsukawa picks up the grey cardboard. It says ‘Theory two: connection’, and there are doodles of Oikawa and Iwaizumi with big fat tummies and question marks all over them. “This is my second least favorite and I only added it because Makki insisted. He says you two spend so much time together that it wouldn’t be weird if one of you, like, passed the pain onto the other or something like that. Like when two girl friends get their period at the same time.”

“What the fuck.” 

“I know, ridiculous,” Matsukawa rolls his eyes and hastily puts the cardboard away like it had personally offended him. He then holds up the red one, a devilish smirk illuminating his face. ‘Theory three: sexual tension.’ It has at least ten bananas drawn on it. “My absolute favorite is number four but this one is still great, I don’t think it needs to be explained.” 

“That–” Oikawa clears his throat. “That actually makes sense.” 

“Right? And the best part is that it’ll go away if you two just fuck it out!” 

“Can you lower your voice!?” Oikawa hisses through gritted teeth. “We’re in the middle of the school yard, you moron!” 

“Alright, alright. So let me show you mine and Makki’s favorite,” Matsukawa says, his smirk widening to a painful stretch. The fourth cardboard is a light shade of blue and has a giant heart messily colored in pink on it. Inside of the heart, it says: ‘Theory four: soulmates.’ “This– don’t make that face, let me explain...” 

“This is stupid.” 

“You remember how a few days ago you were a hundred percent sure that Iwaizumi was dating Sayuri-san?”

Oikawa huffs. “Why are you bringing that up? I’m still not over it.” 

“Because! You two are soulmates and your time to get together has finally come! Now the universe put someone in the way, Sayuri-san, so you’ll realize you have to act now if you don’t wanna lose him.” 

“So you’re basically saying that Iwa-chan is thinking about dating her.” 

“No, he’s not! But you’re not supposed to know that. You’re supposed to think that he is, but you’re so dense I have to interfere. Sorry, universe.” 

Oikawa pinches the bridge of his own nose. “Mattsun...” 

“Look, I talked to Iwaizumi about it, okay? Like three times. He’s not dating nor thinking about dating Sayuri. You’re so stupid, Oikawa! Even with my help you can’t make a fucking move,” When Matsukawa sighs, he sounds so frustrated that Oikawa feels like there’s no one dumber than him in the entirety of Japan. He probably is the first person to get Matsukawa sighing like that. “You know what? I have a fifth theory. You and Iwaizumi’s stomachs hurt from being so damn useless.”

Oikawa knows he kind of deserved that, so he lets it pass. “Can you proceed explaining number four?” 

“Gladly,” Matsukawa picks the light blue cardboard up from where he has dropped it on his lap. “So you’re soulmates and your time to get together has come. The universe planned a conflict for you that you’ll have to get over in order to get together, that conflict being Sayuri-san. Iwaizumi is not interested in her in the slightest but you have to think that he is to snap and make a move. Oh and your stomach hurts for the very same reason you described the pain as, _anticipation_. Deep down you both know that something is about to happen and the pain will go away after it does.”

“As much as I like this theory,” And, believe him, Oikawa really does: “It’s batshit crazy.”

“So you and Iwaizumi starting to hurt on the same day for no apparent or logical reason isn’t batshit crazy?”

“I mean, yeah,” Matsukawa raises his thick eyebrows until they mingle with his hairline in a crude way of saying, _so!?_ “But this is just too much.”

Oikawa is expecting to be lectured for at least the rest of the day, but Matsukawa seems to be done with him. And the weirdest thing is that he also seems pretty calm about it. 

“Okay,” He sighs, already putting his cardboards and his notebook away. “I guess I owe Makki five thousand yen.”

Oikawa blinks, waits for Matsukawa to elaborate, and when he comes to the conclusion that he’s not going to get an explanation, he blinks again. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, nothing,” Matsukawa fake-chuckles, and it’s the most annoying sound Oikawa has ever heard. “Just me and Makki being dumb.” 

“What a surprise,” Oikawa deadpans. “Tell me.” 

“We just made a bet.” 

“Hm. On me.”

“Yeah, isn’t it funny?” 

“Hilarious,” Oikawa says, his mouth not even twitching close to a smile. “So what was it about?” 

“Oh, Makki said you were too chicken to do something about your crush on Iwaizumi. I was actually rooting for you, I mean I just lost five thousand yen because of you–”

“What the fuck, Mattsun!?” Oikawa punches him again, harder this time. “That’s what you guys do when you have time to kill? Bet on my love life?” 

“Among other things, yeah. Basically.” 

Oikawa can not believe them. Like, why would he even need enemies for, with friends like that?

He’s not only pissed, though. He’s determined. He wants Makki to lose his five thousand yen and he wants him to cry about it for two whole weeks. He doesn’t want to side with Traitor Matsukawa, but it’s not like he has another option. 

“I’m going to prove him wrong.” 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“I said I’m going to prove that pink haired asshole wrong,” Oikawa repeats, clearer. “You won’t lose a single yen.” 

“Oh my God!” Matsukawa shrieks, throwing himself at Oikawa. It goes exactly as expected, with both losing balance and ending up sprawled on the grass, as well as many concerned looks being thrown their way. “This is why you’re my bestest friend!” 

Somehow, Matsukawa convinces Oikawa to show up at Iwaizumi’s door after school, clutching his backpack’s strap with one hand and today’s homework with the other. The stomach ache is at its peak, but Oikawa has gotten used to the feeling to let it show on his face. So when Iwaizumi’s mom urges him in, he flashes her his brightest and fakest smile. 

“Hajime said you weren’t feeling good either,” She says as they cross the living room together. “You’re better now, aren’t you? You look like you are.” 

“Yes, I’m so much better,” Oikawa lies. “I’m sure it's just a virus, he’ll get well very soon.” 

“Hm, I hope so. Well, I won’t hold you back anymore. Hajime is in his room, go check on him and please cheer him up! He’s been mopping since I picked him up from school.” 

“Sure thing, Iwaizumi-san. I’ll do my best.”

“Call me Amaterasu!” It’s the last thing he hears from Iwaizumi’s mother, and practically the only thing he’s been hearing from her since he befriended her son. Seriously, Oikawa should just entertain her already. He laughs his way to Iwaizumi’s room and knocks weakly on the door when it materializes in front of him.

“I told you I don’t need anything, mom!” Says a groaning Iwaizumi from inside the room. 

Oikawa huffs indignantly. “That’s how you, only childs, treat your mothers?” The door knob starts turning immediately after the words leave Oikawa’s mouth, the pain in his stomach only growing deeper. “You know– I think I might adopt her as _my_ mom…” 

“Shut the hell up,” Iwaizumi wraps a hand around Oikawa’s wrist to drag him into the room. “What are you doing here?” 

“Ouch, Iwa-chan, it hurts!” He hisses in pain, the sound making Iwaizumi let go of his arm. Oikawa leans his back against the door that has just been closed behind them, pouts at his friend for good measure. “You really don’t know how strong you are.”

“Maybe I do,” Iwaizumi responds with his signature creepy grin, and as he presses his palms to the door on each side of Oikawa’s head, Oikawa’s stomach begins pulsating to the erratic rhythm of his heart. He’s hot under his collar, can feel his veins carrying poison to the rest of his body, leaving the flesh raw and open. 

They’ve been this close before, they’ve been even closer before, so what the fuck is his problem? 

Iwaizumi’s smirk falters, and Oikawa swears he sees a grimace creeping up his features, almost as if the ache of his own stomach has started mimicking Oikawa’s. Ha. However, he still draws himself near Oikawa’s face. “Maybe I do,” Iwaizumi repeats. “And I want it to hurt.” 

“You’re a brute,” Oikawa breathes out, begging for his wobbly knees to not give out. “I– I brought your homework.”

“Nice,” Iwaizumi takes the papers from Oikawa’s hand and finally, thankfully, walks away from him in the direction of his bed. “Wanna stay over? You’ll need my help with math anyway.” 

Oikawa rolls his eyes, already following Iwaizumi’s lead. He lets his friend collapse on the mattress and sits on the floor instead, so close to Iwaizumi he’s surrounded by his intoxicating smell of boy and cologne and boy’s cologne and… 

He’s working on the third exercise when it happens. He isn’t expecting it, but he has been _expecting_ for a week now, so he wouldn’t say it surprises him. He’s grateful that he’s not facing Iwaizumi, because he’s a hundred percent sure that he would kiss him if he was. 

Now, this is new. Iwaizumi is stroking his scalp as he, Oikawa presumes, does his own homework, running his fingers through Oikawa’s hair like it’s something they usually do. 

If Oikawa’s stomach ache was peaking before, now the organ is about to combust and stop working forever. He wants it to stop. He needs it to stop.

_Deep down you both know that something is about to happen._

“Is this okay?” Iwaizumi whispers the same way he did last Tuesday, only this time he’s directing his words right into Oikawa’s ear. It sounds painful, too, like he’s hurting as much as Oikawa is. 

Oikawa tries to swallow but finds out that his throat is way too dry. 

_The pain will go away after it does._

“Yes,” He whispers back, slightly throwing his head back to give Iwaizumi more room to continue his work of tearing him apart.

Iwaizumi rewards him with a soft tug on his hair, one that has Oikawa biting back a moan for. 

_I guess I owe Makki five thousand yen._

“Iwa-chan?”

_We just made a bet._

_Isn’t it funny?_

“Hm?” 

_Oh, Makki said you were too chicken to do something about your crush on Iwaizumi._

_Too chicken to do something._

_Too._

_Chicken._

Oikawa doesn’t answer with words, he simply turns around and kisses Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi has been waiting for it or so it seems, because he doesn’t need time to process it, he just cups Oikawa’s face in his hands and kisses him back. 

The kiss is sweet and perfect, the lack of experience turns out to not be a problem when their lips start moving in sync just like they do everything else. It doesn’t last long, though, much to Oikawa’s dismay. Iwaizumi is grinning so much against his mouth that it becomes impossible for Oikawa to keep kissing him, so he pulls away and pouts until Iwaizumi laughs and tries to kiss it away.

“What’s so funny?” Oikawa whines, getting up from the floor and climbing onto Iwaizumi’s lap. 

“Nothing, I just–” Iwaizumi relaxes his back against the mattress, his hands settling on Oikawa’s hips to help him get comfortable on his thighs. “I’m happy. I used to think I could never have this.” 

Oikawa leans down to peck Iwaizumi’s lips, then drags his mouth all across his cute face. He kisses his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, going as far as taking Iwaizumi’s earlobe between his teeth. “You always had me,” Oikawa sighs as he releases the sensitive and now wet piece of skin. “I love you.” 

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi stares up at him in awe, dumbfounded. He looks like he can’t decide who he should listen to first: his heart or his dick. Thank God he makes up his mind before Oikawa can get too impatient. “You really mean that?” 

“Of course I do, moron.” Oikawa says, rolling his eyes. He’s sitting on Iwaizumi Hajime’s lap, there’s no way he doesn’t feel like the most confident bitch in the world right now, so he asks: “Do you not love me?”

“You know I do,” Iwaizumi says, softer than Oikawa’s ever heard him. Oikawa is afraid all his feelings will suffocate and choke him to death before he can get his hands on Iwaizumi the way he really, _really_ wants to. But dying in the arms of the love of your life is not that bad, now is it? 

When he leans down to kiss Iwaizumi again, and hopefully forever, he gets stopped by a strong hand closing around his mouth. He’s about to throw a fucking tantrum, he swears to God as he bats Iwaizumi’s hand away and squints his eyes at him. “What does a man have to do to kiss his _boyfriend_ without being constantly shoved away–”

Iwaizumi shushes him, though he’s smiling so bright it’s blinding. If one simple (and true) word got him smiling like that, Oikawa is going to make sure he says it at least 25 times a day. 

“My stomach doesn’t hurt anymore.” 

“Huh?” 

“My stomach,” Iwaizumi repeats. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Oikawa’s hands fly to his own stomach and he presses them firmly on it, pokes it with his long fingers just in case. Nothing. “Oh my God.”

“This shit is nuts.” 

“ _We_ are nuts,” He can’t believe, for the life of him, that not only Matsukawa but also Hanamaki were right, but he can worry about that later. He takes his hands off his stomach and grabs Iwaizumi by his wrists instead, pins him to the bed and crawls over him on all fours, a predatory smirk on his face. “Now. Are you done interrupting me yet?”

Iwaizumi, bless his soul, is. They spend the rest of the afternoon making out and ignoring all the homework they still have to do.

When Oikawa gets home - _finally,_ as his mom says-, the first thing he does is open his chat with his angel and savior. 

**to Mattsun**

you just won five thousand yen (*ゝω・)ﾉ

no need to thank me though 

**from Mattsun**

lol there was no bet

i lied 

but i’m glad to know things worked out!! 🥰

Oikawa makes a mental note to stock Matsukawa’s fridge with as many hamburg steaks to last him a lifetime. 

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this pretty please leave me comments and kudos, they make my day!


End file.
